Unforgettable
by hermionesmydawg
Summary: Not that she is obsessing over numbers, but doing math in her head while she lies in bed at night is better than concentrating on all of the other thoughts racing through her mind. Like, that it's been 59 days since she saw his face. 1416 hours since she heard his voice. Future established Densi/Deeks long-term undercover.


**A/N: My dear friend Aprylynn and I both talk about how we need Deeks to go on a long undercover operation. And so, things like this happen. :) This is near-future established Deeks/Kensi. I would rate this is a strong T, but not strong enough for M. And as usual, I own nothing. Please, somebody buy me something.**

* * *

_59 days._

_1416 hours._

_84960 minutes._

_5097600 seconds._

Not that she is obsessing over numbers or anything, but doing the math in her head while she lies in bed at night is better than concentrating on all of the other thoughts racing through her mind. Like, that it's been 59 days since she saw his face. 1416 hours since she heard his voice. 84960 minutes since she last felt his rough hands on her skin and 5097600 seconds since his soft lips were on hers. The seconds are the hardest - they pass her by before she can really even count them.

Counting seconds is still better than wondering if he is even alive.

This is exactly what Kensi's doing when her phone chirps, startling her to the point that she almost jumps off of her bed. Rubbing her eyes, she grabs the phone and checks the text message - an unknown number, and the message is short and cryptic. _19481 Vanowen Street, tomorrow, 10:00 p.m_. The hairs on the back of her neck rise as panic sets in. Is she being set up? Did something happen to Deeks, or any of the members of her team?

Thankfully her phone chirps again before she has a chance to call Hetty, Callen, and the entirety of OPS in a state of hysterics.

"Office is in need of a fern. Heard you were a good supplier."

"Idiot," she mutters, shaking her head in relief. She has never been happier to hear, or in this case see, a fern reference in her life. It's a code word they discussed once, right after Hetty told them the story of the cactus flower. They agreed that if need be, cactus would mean flee. In turn, fern meant come. It was all Deeks' idea of course, and Kensi had rolled her eyes and gone along with it. Call it blind optimism, but she never thought they'd need to use code words. They were partners, so they'd always be together, right?

Wrong.

* * *

At work the next day, she drops hints to see if anybody else had gotten a cryptic message from an unknown source. They all appear confused and slightly amused at her lame attempts at subtlety, but she gets the answer she needs - the request is personal, not business. And thank God, because she is dying for some personal Deeks time.

She misses him, every single thing about him; even the annoying things he does, like picking up behind her obsessively. It was a nuisance at first because she could never find anything she was looking for. Now she finds herself tidying up her apartment at night before she takes Monty for his last walk. And yes, Monty misses him too. Misery loves company.

It's not just his presence that she misses. She finds as time goes by, it's harder to remember the little things. The way his hair smells when he gets out of the shower, the rough scratch of his beard right after he trims it, and his happy laughs when he's sleeping. It freaked her out at first, but now she's dying to hear it again so she can remember if it sounds like "hehe" or "hehehe."

She hopes he's not forgetting her, too.

* * *

Kensi parks her personal car down the street from the address, which she now knows is a restaurant, that Deeks sent her and checks herself out in the rearview mirror. In a blonde wig, thick-rimmed glasses, black flats, and a short gray dress with black jacket, she thinks she has successfully camouflaged herself. Though to be honest, she looks silly as a blonde.

Walking up the street, Kensi realizes this is a side of LA she rarely visits unless it is for work. The street names and buildings are unfamiliar, as are the people. That could be a good thing, or a bad thing. Looking into the window of the restaurant, she sees...nothing. No people, no tables, just an empty storefront. And the front door is locked, of course. Instinctively she pats the small Ruger in her thigh holster to settle her nerves and heads around towards the back of the building.

Her adrenaline is pumping even higher than it was before, and she starts to question whether she has unknowingly walked into a trap. _This was so dumb_, she thinks, _letting her emotions win out over her brains. Stupid, stupid-_

A strong hand grabs hers in the dark, dragging her through a propped open side door of the building. Once inside, she snatches her hand back and shoves the person away angrily. A loud "oof" sounds in the small dark room before she hears an unmistakable voice.

"I questioned it for a second, but I definitely grabbed the right girl."

"Deeks?" She squeaks, feeling for him in the dark. "Is there a reason you're hiding in a dark alley?"

"I was trying to be discreet. These guys trust me about as much as I trust them. Hold on." Another door opens, spilling light into the room as he takes her hand and leads her into a prep area of the restaurant. "Sorry, light bulbs haven't been a huge priority."

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you," she grumbles, taking in the sight before her. It's not what she expected.

Turning to face her in the light, Deeks offers her a small smile. "I missed you, too. Are you good?"

She nods and wants to come up with a sassy remark for him, but she's speechless. He's wearing dark clothes with a black leather jacket. His face is the same as always, just a little hairier. But his skin is pale and he looks as skinny as he did when he came back from the human trafficking op a few years ago. And his hair is pulled back into a ponytail...no matter how much she has missed him, there are no nice words in her heart for that hairstyle. How he looks isn't that important, though. All that matters is that he's standing in front of her.

Warmth rushes through her as she watches his blue eyes roam her body curiously. He's just as confused by her appearance as she is by his. "Blonde's not the best look for you," he teases.

"That ponytail looks fucking ridiculous," she blurts out, leaning back against a metal sorting table.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he twists his short ponytail between his fingers. "Don't like it?"

She swallows deeply. "You look like, I don't know. A bad guy."

He takes a step closer, practically trapping her between him and the table. The metal is cold, shocking her flushed skin. "I _am_ a bad guy, Kens."

Hearing him say her name, smelling his unmistakable Deeks-like scent, seeing his face...it's like she's in a dream. To hell with the odd location and unfavorable circumstances, she's just so happy to have him within her grasp for a few fleeting moments. It's unlike her to be at a loss for words. She almost has too much to say that she doesn't even know where to begin. But first things first - she reaches up behind his head and yanks out his ponytail, freeing his long blond waves to fall around his face. Much better. She meets his eyes and pushes a stray curl behind his ear. "Just tell me that you're okay."

"I'm better now." His words match his weary face - he already looks more full of life than just a few minutes ago. Placing a hand on the top of her blond wig, he cocks his head. "May I?"

Kensi laughs and he smiles, tugging the wig off of her head. Next he gently removes the empty frames from her face, folds them, and places them on the table. "The glasses are kinda cute, though, you can keep those."

"Oh, just shut up and-"

"Gladly." Deeks grabs her neck with both hands and kisses her roughly, catching her by surprise. That feeling doesn't last long, quickly being replaced by the fiery need she's had for weeks to be as close to him as physically possible. He tastes and feels just like she remembers, though the fuller beard is a little softer than the usual scruff. When he comes home, she might ask him to keep it - emphasis on _when_, not if.

Not even really concerned about anything but Deeks and his lips and hands and everything else pressed against her, she slides her hands in his jacket and forces it off his shoulders. Her fingers start roaming the curves of his arms, shoulders, and chest to try to re-memorize everything about him. She gasps against his lips as he squeezes one of her breasts, thumbing circles gently over the fabric.

That alone is driving her wild and she wants, needs, more. Now. Throwing her arms over his shoulders, she jumps on him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist. He growls and clutches her ass tightly before setting her down on the metal sorting table.

"Oh my God, that's cold!" She cries out in shock, wiggling uncomfortably as she points to the floor. "Jacket, jacket."

"Shit, sorry," he apologizes, grabbing his jacket and laying it across the table. With one swift motion he picks her up and drops her onto the soft lining of his jacket. He spreads her knees and slides between them. "Now, where were we?"

"Before you froze my ass? I think it was pretty close to this."

"Consider it payback," he breathes against her cheek.

"Payback?" She has no idea what he's talking about. Really, her focus and her hands have moved to his belt buckle. It is taking an inordinate amount of time for her to get the damn thing loose.

"You don't remember that time..." Deeks pauses, kissing her neck as he runs his hands up the inside of her thighs and smirking when he reaches her thigh holster. Goosebumps rise under his fingertips as a shiver runs through her body. "I chased a guy into a cold ass pond for you, while you sat in your comfy Cadillac."

Finally she frees his belt from his jeans and begins to fumble with the button and zipper. "I remember you whining about being cold..." His lips catch hers again just as she loosens his pants and shoves a hand in his boxers. "That's the only thing I don't miss."

Deeks moans and teases her with his thumb through her panties, making her squirm. "I miss everything. You, Monty, everybody at NCIS, my home, your home...I'm just...so..." Closing his eyes, he rests his forehead against hers and sucks in a deep breath.

It seemed before like the room around her was spinning, and now it comes to a screeching halt. His mood has shifted so quickly, and now Kensi feels powerless. She exhales slowly and runs her hands up his torso and through his long, curly hair. "I know. We all miss you too," she says before pausing, willing herself to say something uncharacteristic for her. "Marty."

"What?" He pulls away and licks his lips, and she swears to herself that she would kill any person that dares to bring harm to this man. "Why'd you call me that? You never call me that."

She brings his lips to hers again, much more softly than before. "I don't want you to forget. Don't forget who you are. Where home is." She kisses him again. "Or me."

"Never," he whispers, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her to the edge of the table so she's flush against him. "You're unforgettable."

* * *

She keeps her emotions under control until she walks into her apartment and sees Monty's eager face waiting for her. The dog sniffs and nudges her hand, wagging his tail as he trots towards the door. But his excitement doesn't last long - there's nobody else coming home that night.

She tries to tell herself that the tears that are starting to burn her eyes are for her dejected four-legged roommate. Crying is a sign of weakness, and she is not weak. Or at least, she didn't used to be. It's funny how life changes.

Kensi strips off her clothes and tosses them on the floor, staring at them for a few seconds, before picking them up and placing them in the hamper in her closet. Crawling into bed, she wipes her eyes on her pillowcase and replays the night in her head. It wasn't just all about the sex, though that was amazing and desperately needed for both of them. That connection they have now is what makes (made) their partnership so special.

They'd laughed about rooms with lasers, and how Sam and Callen are so married that Michelle must get jealous on occasion. She updated him on the state of affairs at NCIS, while he avoided most details of his operation. But he made her another promise before she left - he would be home. Soon.

She buries her face in the sheets and tries to force herself to sleep so she doesn't dwell on that promise.

_1 hour._

_73 minutes._

_4380 seconds._


End file.
